Tahar's heart wavered. She had known for some time that one day she would be faced with a difficult choice – whether to cross the threshold and take the life of another intelligent being. Murder was the single greatest crime that could be committed back home, and in many cases, it was the same on the continent. But what she had learned was that all rules could be bent and broken given the right circumstances. Ren was a master of dancing on that line.
He didn't kill at random. Tahar had never once thought that he did so for his own enjoyment. There were moments where he could have decided to do so, but he did not; even when the deaths of those people may have made his life easier in some way. He maintained that type of response for the truly odious, for the times when his life and the life of others he cared for was in danger.
Was that not the truest essence of a fighting will? Any tribeswoman would scratch and claw for a chance at taking a protective mate like Ren. With all of that said, why did she continue to hesitate so? Ren had made it clear that if she wanted to survive on the continent, she needed to loosen her own moral code. She needed to be willing to stick by her convictions and do what she thought was right, even if it came at an affront to another aspect of herself.
Ren was going to put himself into a dangerous situation, Tahar did not want to be caught napping for a second time. If she was incapable of doing what Ren asked of her, she needed to decide quickly before any more responsibility was given to her. At least there was one other person who could share in her plight.
They both hung at the back of the chain as the rest of the team discussed the upcoming ambush. Ren would soon split away from the main huddle and head off on his own – tempting the Inquisitors to follow him to their chosen location.
"Do you feel confident?" Tahar asked out of the blue. Jonell wasn't expecting to hear from her directly. She was a stoic sort and more comfortable speaking with Ren than him.
Jonell frowned, "Not really. These Inquisitors are a tough bunch of bastards. They're better at fighting than me, but their equipment is dragging them down. I think it'll be close."
"Yet, you are here."
"I am. I owe Ryan one for what he did in Pascen, or I suppose it'd be more accurate to say that I owe him for messing up."
"Ah. That is different from what I did."
"What did you do?"
Her brow furrowed, "I became distracted during a battle, and he had to protect me from an enemy attack. I disappointed myself. To become unfocused during a hunt is dangerous. I do not wish to see Ren hurt again."
Jonell had picked up a few things about Tahar through osmosis, mostly from Ren. She was more complex than her large size and muscular build suggested; a thinker and warrior. Ren had met her during a trip to Versia – and she had been awarded to him as a 'mate' after slaying a prolific threat to her village. Lucky bastard. Though Ren's opinion on that was yet to be aired. Considering his miserable and often distant demeanour, he probably disliked having such connections made with him personally.
Ren was just as much of an enigma to Jonell. Most of the stories circulating about him were lavished with a sense of bombast. They portrayed him as a heroic, almost mythical figure. Jonell had yet to see anything that supported those outsized claims. He was every bit the regular kind of young rogue that were so prolific in large cities and towns – a representative of a poor underclass who were essential to the function of those settlements, even if they often performed actions people found distasteful. There was one thing that Jonell didn't doubt, his capability in a fight. Ren may have personified the rogue ideal but he looked like an experienced mercenary. It was still difficult to wrap his head around the fact that the legendary thirty-man massacre had really happened.
His mind was starting to wander, he returned to the topic at hand as they navigated through a busy street market. "It wasn't that I was scared or anything. I was in the wrong position – there was no chance of me getting over there in time, and that's the problem. If I'd just moved up with him, then I could have intercepted it before he got hurt."
"I see."
"That kind of thing is always going to damage your confidence. Ryan says there's no problem with it, but I don't know if he's just trying to be nice." His eyes were locked onto the robe adorned back of his good friend ahead. His words were scant comfort in the face of reality. It was unlikely that Ryan would trust him in the same way again.
"How long have you known Ryan?"
Jonell scratched the scruff of his chin, "Uh. About six years now. Met him on a job, and everything went smooth so we kept working together. Funny thing is the next job after that went to shit right away. That was the first time I ever saw Ryan get serious. Never saw anything like it in my life – he blew an entire gang of bandits away in one stroke."
The memory was nostalgic, but tinted with a morose realisation that Ryan wasn't able to perform such incredible feats with one arm.
"I felt the same way when I saw Ren fight. He is very powerful. My tribe values strength and will; that is why they decided to choose me as the daughter to be given away."
"What did Ren say about it?"
"He has said that he wishes for me to see his 'real value' before I decide whether to take him as my mate."
"Of course he did."
"I was awash with doubt for a time. But as I have spent more time with him, the more I understand the wisdom of his words. He knew that he and I were very different. He did not wish to entrap me in a bind that I could come to hate."
"He's a smart lad, then?"
Tahar smiled, "Smart. Yes, I would say so. He is very… considerate." But consideration was often used to cover over raw nerves. Jonell did not feel reassured by the revelation. It simply made him think that Ryan was too nice for his own good.
The conversation was disrupted by Ren speaking from the head of the pack; "Okay. I'm going to break off here and walk my route. The rest of you get into position and wait for my signal. If Adelbern fed us a crock of shit and the wrong location, get out of there and don't engage them."
There were no arguments. Tahar felt a pain in her chest as her last chance to back out came and went without her objecting. This was exposure therapy. She had decided to take the hardest route for her own sake. No matter what, she was going to ensure that the same mistake did not happen again. She braced herself for the task and what it demanded of her. Until then Tahar had only ever killed animals, but now Ren was asking her to do something much more distressing.
Years of lessons from her home weighed heavy on her heart. From the very first moments that her clawed digits wrapped around the wooden heft of a bow, they had stressed that she was to never point it loaded at another tribe member. Accidents were not excuses. A bow was a dangerous weapon – especially the large and powerful variety that they were known for. A stray, half-hearted bolt could easily kill, breaking bone and tearing flesh.
She had borne that responsibility and held it closely for her entire life. It was always on the forefront of her mind when hunting with others. Doubt was not to be ignored. If there was ever the chance that an arrow could go astray, they were told to hold their fire. It was easy to lose track of one another in the tall grasses of the plains. She knew exactly what Ren would say - purely out of consideration for her customs.
"You don't need to do anything for my sake."
Had his deeds in the underground passages already gone forgotten? It was a strange kind of humility that he practised. Regardless – Tahar's goal had remained the same. She was to be his partner. It was expected that things would take some time to settle in, and that she would have to understand his way of living.
The city was changing, street by street. The carefully placed stone gave way to churned mud and uneven foundations. This was where the fight would begin. Ren was going to lead them in and launch a surprise attack. Ryan and Jonell moved ahead and peered around the corner of the crossroads.
"There they are," Ryan said, "Let's get into position and wait for Ren."
Tahar nodded and found a good place to climb up onto the roofs of the surrounding buildings. She would need to keep a low profile to prevent any of the Inquisitors from spotting her. The construction of the houses was extremely shoddy. She could feel the timer frames groaning under her weight. She had to tread carefully lest she puncture through the tiled roof using one of her feet. Then came the odious task of finding an appropriate vantage point.
Ren had already indicated that he was going to drag the target to a nearby courtyard, but that made it difficult to see both fights at once. Ren had insisted that Tahar prioritise protecting the others over him. Tahar hated to be of two minds about an order like that. Ren was the leader of the band, but her emotional dedication to making up for past misdeeds was pulling her in different directions.
The only thing she could do was perch up and wait. She counted the seconds in her mind. A thousand worries picked freely from amongst a wild field. What if things didn't work out? What if somebody in the group died during the fight? What if she missed her shot and struck one of them, or what if she couldn't muster the courage to help?
Her worries would not abate, not even as the sound of a commotion started suddenly from below. Words were exchanged, but only when they ended did she notice that it was Ren speaking. She peered over the edge and witnessed the beginning of the battle. Cali, Ryan and Jonell quickly put themselves between Ren and John – splitting the group into two and forcing them away. The first part of his plan had gone off without a hitch.
She observed silently, bow tensed and arrow knocked. A chance that did not present itself was the most frustrating of all. Tahar was beginning to become anxious. Not because of choice, but because of the testing situation she found herself in. She wanted to know. To know if she was capable of doing what Ren needed, the things he was not capable of admitting.
Amidst the chaos of the proceedings, Tahar missed one of the officers peeling away. A moment later a loud voice called out to her, "Tahar!" Her heart leapt into her throat. She swivelled around and leapt from her hiding place, shattering clay tiles and ripping asunder the weak canvas beneath. The sight before her was dreadful. Ren had been injured, and now one of them was bearing down on him with murderous intent.
She aimed. She fired.
There was no time to think about it. Her inaction would surely lead to his death this time. First the confidence, then the regret – the painful arc of flight allowed her ample time to consider the choices that had led her here. A series of breaking points by which she could have evaded such a violent ending. A crack of bone and a cry of pain. The man holding the dagger was knocked from his feet and sent flying into the stone steps on his left.
Ren turned to face her from the ground. That was it.
The deed was done.